


Cradle Me

by lovelylittlelouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Avoidant Personality Disorder, Baker Harry, Fluff and Angst, Harry is a goofy sweetheart, Hurt/Comfort, Louis has a lot of issues I'm sorry, M/M, OCD, Reclusive Louis, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelylittlelouis/pseuds/lovelylittlelouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A perk of his morning was always seeing the beautiful boy with the apron step outside for a cigarette. He'd walk out around 6:50, according to Louis' watch, covered in flour and icing, and light a smoke as he sat outside the bakery window. Louis watched him, everyday, and sometimes the boy would watch him too. This morning was no different."</p>
<p>AU: Louis is a recluse who sticks to his routine of admiring the bakery (baker) across the road. Harry is a jolly baker who admires the lonely boy who smokes on the balcony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this to my girlfriend Hannah because she's the most beautiful human in the world and I most definitely wouldn't have posted this without her encouragement.

The thing about Louis, is that he's always been an early riser.

And as the early rising sun beamed through the gap in his curtains and illuminated his small London flat, he padded through to the kitchen with sleepy steps and turned on the kettle. He yawned, a small humph leaving his mouth as he rubbed his eyes with a weak fist and leaned against his counter. 

It was 6:30, and Louis was still half dreaming. His mind was slow, his actions slower. As his tea brewed he carried it out to his bedroom, crawling across his bed and unlocking his window, sliding outside and settling into the blanket he had laid out onto his fire escape.

He loved this, getting up early and watching the city wake up at the same time as he did. The sky was emitting an orange glow, lighting up the streets as business men started to make their way to the office and market stands started to set up. The birds were singing, filling his ears with a beautiful morning melody which made him smile slightly, lean his head against the brick behind him. The air was fresh too, it was autumn now and the chilly morning only made him shiver slightly as he snuggled down into his blanket and cupped his steaming mug. He reached into the pocket of his pyjama bottoms, bringing from it a slightly crumpled box of Malboro Reds and a lighter. This was his routine, his conventional start to the day - and he couldn't have been more happy about it. 

Across from his perch sat a hole in the wall bakery. It was small, and always emitted and warm doughy smell that filled him up with a sense of _home_. It was cozy too, by looks of it. Louis longed to step inside, see for himself just how cushy the interior is and try a baked good that always smelt so, so delicious. In another world, Louis could see himself being a regular there. He'd walk in with a sense of ease and smile to all the familiar faces behind the counter. He wanted to be able to ask for "the usual, please" and take a seat by the window and watch the street outside. But he couldn't, because the world was mean and cold and out to get him, and he was much much safer inside the confines of his own home. 

A perk of his morning was always seeing the beautiful boy with the apron step outside for a cigarette. He'd walk out around 6:50, according to Louis' watch, covered in flour and icing, and light a smoke as he sat outside the bakery window. Louis watched him, everyday, and sometimes the boy would watch him too. This morning was no different.

It was 6:48 when he stepped out the bakery doors, bringing with him a whiff of the smell from inside. He had soft looking curls that Louis had seen develop from a boyish halo to a subtle quiff. He was tall, very very tall with a lanky figure that was the complete opposite of Louis' own. He was humming this morning, a song by The Pixies that Louis was very familiar with from his days spent inside doing nothing but chain smoking and reading and listening to music. Louis grabbed his lighter, tried to spark up at the same time as the baker boy. There was something about synchronised smoking with the perfect stranger across the street that made Louis feel connected to him in, as though the integrated click of the lighters was enough to establish that they were acquainted in some way. 

As the boy across the street inhaled and pulled his cigarette away from his lips, he gave Louis a slight nod, one side of his lips quirked up into a small grin that made Louis want to reach for more and run away at the same time. Louis continued to smoke, finishing his tea in between drags and occasionally looking back up and catching the eye of the boy with the beautiful face and the dirty apron. 

-

Four hours later and Louis was still outside, half way through a Ray Bradbury book and almost out of cigarettes. It's a Monday, and as always Louis would get checked in on by Zayn at about 12. Today however, Zayn walked in at approximately 11:20, and greeted him with a whistle and a "Good afternoon Lou!"

It's not like Louis keeps a tight schedule, because really, he doesn't do much of anything at all, but he doesn't like to be thrown out of his regular set up, and Zayn should know this by now. As Zayn steps out onto the fire escape, fresh pack of cigarettes in one hand and a warm mug of tea in the other, Louis frowns up at him slightly, taps his watch a few times before gratefully accepting the tea that Zayn offered. 

"Don't get all pouty with me, thought I'd come in a bit early so I could take the lunch time shift, pays better, dunnit." Louis nods, takes two cigarettes out of his new pack and offers one to Zayn before lighting his own smoke and staring out at the bakery. Zayn follows his wistful gaze and feels his heart clench knowing just how much Louis wants to be in there. "Spoke to baker boy yet?" Zayn chirped, sparking up his cigarette and trying to lighten up the conversation.

"I erm, well, no, not- no I haven't," Louis' response is quiet, muffled by the shaky hand which holds his cigarette close to his mouth, a shield from prying questions he doesn't get asked often. 

"One day, yeah Lou? I can always go in there and get you something, maybe see if I can find out what his name is," Zayn looks between Louis and the bakery. It's not like he hasn't suggested going into there before for Louis, he does it near enough every week, but as always he just waits until Louis is ready to take that next step as to actually knowing the boy's name. Louis needs patience, and Zayn has always been good at persevering. 

"Maybe, like, next week? But like, maybe, not definite," Louis furrowed his eyebrows, anxious thoughts filling his mind about all the things that could go wrong. Knowing the boy's name is not a regularity in Louis' life, and it would mean another step closer, another new thing that wasn't there before. 

"That's fine, don't fret, let us know when you're ready mate. Listen, I bought in a couple bags of shopping for you, the regular stuff. I put them on the kitchen side, okay?" Louis gives an affirmative nod at Zayn's words, his eyes never straying off of the bakery. For a second he thought he saw a glimpse of curly hair walk past the window, and he'll be damned if he misses it again. "Right, speak to you later then. Love you, stay safe!" Zayn stumps out his cigarette in the already over spilling ash tray. He's gone then, and when Louis hears his front door slam shut he let's go of the breath he wasn't aware he was holding. It's not like Louis' _uncomfortable_ around Zayn, they'd known each other since they were kids, but there's still that edge that never leaves Louis' thoughts when he comes into contact with people. 

After 15 minutes of staring longingly at the bakery, Louis' sure that the mystery baker boy is no longer near the window. He sighs, standing up on shaky legs and gathering up the small collection of mugs that surrounded him on the fire escape. He makes his way into the kitchen, taking his time to wash up each individual mug until they're all sparkling and clean. He isn't thinking much at all, instead in a monotonic haze that he seems to always be stuck in. Louis thinks that he might've forgot what any emotions other than fear and longing feel like. He doesn't have the energy to get sad about it. After snooping around the bags of shopping Zayn left, he finds 3 pints of milk for his tea and 5 boxes of Malboro Reds, as well as a fresh loaf of bread and a few tins of beans. He thinks that perhaps after a year of Zayn doing his shopping, he should tell him that he doesn't actually like beans. He also thinks that admitting that would be opening up too much. So he puts the beans away in the cupboard, stacks them up around all the other tins and instant noodles. The more Louis thinks about it, the more he starts to miss the taste of fresh fruit.

-

When Zayn makes his way to Louis' on a Thursday, he knows it won't be a good day. For a reason unbeknown to him, Louis has always seen Thursdays as the worst day of the week. He scratches his chin as he walks down the wet pavement, wonders what there is he could do to make him feel better. Zayn has seen Louis work himself into frenzies on this particular day, and usually the only way to snap him out of it is by the form of distraction. And so, Zayn takes the impulse and makes his way to the bakery before he can think about it too much. He looks upwards to the other side of the street, breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees that Louis isn't sitting in his usual perch in the fire escape. He walks in hurriedly, and the bell on the door tinkers as he looks up and takes in his surroundings. The smell hits him first, wraps around his body like a warm breeze and fills his senses with pumpkin and cinnamon and lovely autumn flavours that made his mouth water instantly. Then he takes in the interior. 

It was shabby at best, but just so so _cozy_ and _lived in_. He felt as though he could sit in there all day with nothing but an instant flow of tea and come out the happiest person alive. The floor was carpeted, a cream colour that fit in perfectly with the mismatched armchairs and sofas littering the small bakery. Along the walls laid frames of paintings and pictures and in the back was a Jeff Buckley poster that had the left corner ripped off. It felt as though someone had grown up adding little bits of themselves to the bakery along the way, and in Zayn's eyes it painted the perfect picture of content. 

"Good afternoon, how can I help you mate?" Zayn looked up at the lively voice, smirked slightly when he realised that _this_ was baker boy. Up close, Zayn could see just how gorgeous he was, and suddenly Louis' infatuation made a lot more sense. 

"Hiya.." Zayn trailed off, raising his eyebrows and searching for a name tag that didn't actually seem to be there.

"Harry, it's err, my names Harry," the boy supplied. _Harry_. 

"Well Harry, I think my friend over in the apartment across the road is having a bad day, and I was hoping you could recommend me your most delicious baked good so I could cheer him up." Harry perks up at the mention of the apartment block, eyes widening and hands gripping the counter slightly. 

"We have gingerbread cupcakes? They're usually a favourite around this time of year, just whipped up a new batch actually. Want to try one?" Harry was rambling, scattering around behind the counter to find the taster tray.

"No that's, it's fine, I trust your judgement. I'll take four actually, if that's okay," Zayn reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet, searching between the receipts and train tickets to find a spare note.

"Of course!" Harry beamed, went outback and started to box up the cupcakes. From behind the counter Zayn heard a clatter or metal, before a mumbled "oh for gods sake" and a louder "don't worry I'm fine!"

Harry emerged not long after, one hand carrying the box of cupcakes and the other rubbing his knee. "Sorry, I ran into the table. I don't usually serve but Barbara's took an hour out to do some charity shopping, so I'm the best you'll get I'm afraid." Zayn realised, with a suppressed grin, that this _Harry_ character was positively the goofiest person he'd ever met. 

"No worries mate, here, keep the change yeah?" Zayn passed over the ten pound note in exchange for the box, which was emitting such a heavenly smell that he was almost tempted to drop his plans of surprising Louis and eating them all himself. Almost.

"Whoa, okay, you sure?" Harry asked, only lowering his hand when Zayn gave an affirmative nod and a smile. 

"It's all yours mate, have a good day, nice to meet you yeah?" Zayn walked towards the bakery door, turning slightly to look at Harry as he left. 

"Yes, thank you! You too, I hope your friend in the apartment feels better, thank you!" Harry was grinning so wide as he waved goodbye, making Zayn's day instantly brighter. He grins as he walks towards the apartment block, dazed and confused by the chirpy boy with the curly hair. 

-

As Zayn predicted, Louis was no where to be found when he stepped inside the small apartment.

"Lou! Louis? Oi," he trailed along to the bedroom - no Louis. Kitchen - no Louis. Front room - no Louis. He sighed and turned around, slowly approaching the bathroom. He opened the door with caution, his shoulders slumping at the sight before him. "Oh Lou." Louis' head whipped up to meet Zayn. He was sitting in the bath tub, eyes red and wide as he scrubbed at the baths surface. He gave Zayn a blank stare, before turning around and continuing to scrub scrub scrub. "Hey, Lou? The baths already sparkling bud, you can stop that now." Louis showed no sign of acknowledgement, and after a beat, scrubbed _harder_ into the porcelain surface. Zayn sighed, set down the box of cupcakes, and grabbed a towel from the rack. Louis was soaking, clothes damp from sitting in the tub whilst he rinsed out the water and cleaners he'd been using. "Come on pal, lets get you out of there okay? Lou look at your hands, why didn't you use gloves?" Louis frowns then, looks down at his hands and sees how red and raw they've become. He whines in the back of his throat, dropping everything and reaching up to Zayn. Zayn reacts quickly, letting Louis wrap his arms and legs around his body as he picks him up and wraps him in the towel. "There you go, okay, let's wash your hands and get you out of these clothes, okay?" Louis whimpers, lays his head on Zayn's shoulder. 

"I'm s-sorry," Louis mumbled out, fist clinging to Zayn's shirt as he hides his face away in Zayn's neck. 

"Hey no, none of that, it's fine, y'know? C'mon, gimme your hand." Zayn carefully cleans each of Louis' hands once at a time, lowering his arm to the sink and gently wiping off the cleaning product that made Louis' hands enflamed. After washing Louis' hands, and taking him to the bedroom to switch his wet clothes with soft, warm, dry pyjamas, he tucks him under the covers of his bed. 

When Zayn comes back into the bedroom, bringing with him a cup of steaming tea and the box of cupcakes, Louis' on his side. He's most vulnerable like this, curled up and breathing wobbly as he clutches the duvet. 

From past experiences, Zayn knows the best thing to do in this circumstance is stay away from Louis until he feels able to communicate with a human again. But today he can't help but shuffle closer to the bed, mumble out a quiet "Lou," and place Louis' tea on his bedside stand.

"What's that smell?" Louis asks, voice muffled by his face pressed into the pillows and the tightness in his throat. 

"Right, that's what I wanted to talk about actually. I went to the bakery today and I-" Zayn was cut off by Louis scrambling out of the cushy cocoon he'd made himself and twisting to look directly at the box in Zayn's hands.

"What, can I, is that like, is that from," Louis fumbles with his words and wipes his hair away from his forehead, glancing out of the window at the bakery across the street. He lowers his voice, as though the bakery has ears and is listening intently to everything Louis is saying, "from there?" 

Zayn nods happily, laying the box out on the edge of the bed and nudging it slightly in Louis' direction. And Louis is scared now, backs into his headboard and away from the box because this is not _normal_ and he's never seen that box in his _life_ and now it's in his home. But then he thinks of the boy across the street, carefully closing the box with soft hands and a smile, and suddenly it doesn't seem so scary anymore.

Seeing the question in Louis' eyes, Zayn carefully steps closer towards the bed and plays with his fingers. "The boy, he served me if you're wondering. He baked them too, gingerbread cupcakes, and put them into the box and gave it straight to me." Zayn licks his lips, looks up slowly to see Louis giving the box a warm look, peering closer to look inside.

"Do you wanna know his name?"

And there it was, the question that could effectively change everything for Louis. Knowing his name, knowing a personal factor about someone, bringing them closer. But this time, Louis wasn't scared of that. He _wanted_ to become closer to him, he wanted to be drawn in and cuddled and talked to.

"Yes please," Louis nodded.

"Harry." Zayn grinned, thinking back to the intriguing boy at the bakery and the warm place itself. The whole encounter was just so nice, so memorable that he craved to be back there again already. When Zayn looked up, Louis was clutching the box in his hands, drawing it closer to his chest as he looked up wonderingly at Zayn. 

"Can you tell me about him?" Louis asks timidly, because now he's invested he has to know as much as he can, get used to what information he has before he delves further. "Can you tell me about... Harry?" 

_Harry_. Louis is certain he's never said anything lovelier. 

"Well," Zayn starts, settling down at the end of the bed and reaching into his pocket for a box of cigarettes. "He is very very handsome, big green eyes and big smile and big hands, he's a very large person. He was clumsy, y'know?"

"Yeah?" Louis asks, eyes wide as he pulls the duvet up to his chin, box of cupcakes still snuggled tight against his chest.

"Yup, walked straight into a table when he was getting those cupcakes ready," Zayn takes a lighter from his jean pocket, lighting his cigarette and musing over Louis' reaction so far. And Louis, well he was in a trance. He was so intrigued by the boy he'd never even met. By _Harry_. And now all he wanted to do was stick on some shoes and walk over to the bakery himself.

"Was he like, was he okay? With the whole table thing?" Louis asked, concern clouding over his voice as he furrowed his eyebrows. Because already the idea of Harry in pain seemed too much to bare.

"Oh he was fine, honestly. Kept on smiling, said he usually doesn't serve but Barbara was on break so he took her shift or summat. He's a nice lad, honestly. I bet you'd have the best conversations with him."

And that's where Louis froze up, back stiff as he shook his head. "Oh no, honestly we wouldn't, that couldn't happen, no, that's not, I don't want to." Louis' head shaking got faster as he looked down, face a blank canvas as he thought about all the disastrous things that could happen if they did meet one day. 

"Okay, that's fine. That's cool, hey Louis, wanna try one of those cupcakes?" Zayn soothed, giving Louis a small smile as he gestured towards the box in his arms. 

Louis wanted to appreciate these cupcakes. Not only were they the first thing outside of the bread and noodles that Louis had eaten in probably about a year, they were made by _Harry_. And Louis felt as though every detail of every cupcake should be evaluated and adored, he wanted to appreciate each cupcake as though he was standing in front of Harry appreciating him instead. 

"Later, I'm gonna like, have them later," Louis nodded, keeping the box close and staring at Zayn expectantly. 

"I guess there's no chance of me having one then?" Zayn asked, taking the last few tokes of his cigarette before throwing the butt out of the window next to Louis' bed. Louis froze up at that, clutched the box tighter and furrowed his eyebrows at Zayn. "Yeah, didn't think so," he sighed.

Zayn stood up then, stretched out his arms and yawned, smiling slightly at Louis. "Look at you, Tommo, haven't seen you this relaxed on a Thursday in a long time. Perhaps I should go back and thank Harry on my way out, eh?" Zayn joked, backtracking a bit when he too in Louis' panicked expression. "I'm joking, yeah?"

"Yeah, course," Louis huffed out, rolling his eyes at himself before looking at Zayn with a serious expression. "Seriously, thank you. So much, you know I love you, yeah?" 

"I love you too," Zayn said softly, moving towards Louis and kissing him softly on the forehead before moving towards the door. "See you tomorrow babe!" 

Zayn's voice trailed away, blurring with the sound of the door closing and the noises coming from the street outside. Louis sighed, looking outside at the bakery. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine a world where he would run the till, smile at the customers he served and giggle at Harry baking the goods he would sell. He could imagine turning up the radio, having Harry hum against his back as he sang softly, voices mixed as they looked out at the empty bakery before closing up shop. Kissing Harry, having Harry love him. Happy, that's what he wanted. He wanted happy. Opening his eyes, Louis looked out to the bakery again. He sniffed, refused to cry.

But the more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Why couldn't he do that? Why couldn't _Louis_ go outside and live a life and be happy and experience things? Why was he this empty shell of a human? It's not fair, none of it. He wants the world to disappear, he wants to disappear from this world. 

Louis shakily pushed the covers off of his body, crawled closer to the window and leaned against the pane. One day, he vowed. One day.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning when Harry strolled outside the bakery for his morning smoke, he was met with the sight of the boy on the fire escape nimbly licking the icing off of a cupcake. _His_ cupcake.

Harry lowered the cigarette from his mouth, not ready to light it yet, because shit this is the friend that was having a bad day from yesterday. And immediately he was flooded with questions.

_"Why was he having a bad day?"_

_"What's the relationship between him and the boy who bought the cupcakes?"_

_"Did he... Like the cupcakes?"_

The boy looked up shyly, caught Harry's eye and smiled slightly as he took a small bite. Harry grinned back, watched the boy finish every last crumb. He licked his fingers, gave Harry a shy thumbs up, and proceeded to light a cigarette. Harry smiled, lighting his at the same time. Today is a good day.

-

When Louis woke up on Saturday, it was with a yawn, a stretch, and a look of discontent placed upon his face. Unlike every weekday morning, Baker Bo- _Harry_ doesn't work on the weekends. So when Louis finally musters the strength to heave himself out of bed and pad onto the fire escape, he's met with a bare brick wall rather than an enthusiastic Harry bobbing about. 

Louis doesn't like the weekends.

Alas, Louis continues with his morning routine of drinking rounds of tea and smoking 'till his lungs hurt. Louis doesn't like to be out for too long on a Saturday, he can hear the rush hour and the people crowding the streets at the end of the road, and it throws him off. Just the thought of so many people _crawling_ around his safe haven is enough for him to get up with a huff and proceed to shower.

 

-

 

"Hey Lou, I brought you something!" Zayn's voice rings around the apartment as Louis steps out of the shower, skin warm and fresh. He's decided that today he'll actually put on some jeans, and stumbles a little self-consciously towards where Zayn has situated himself on the sofa. 

"Oh man, look at you! No trackies today then? You look dashing love, come sit." Louis does as he's told, movements stiff and shoulders hunched. 

"Yeah, thanks Zayn," he mumbles, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them. Today's not a good day for Louis, despite his effort in appearance his lack of Harry is causing a black cloud to drizzle over his brain.

"Picked up a couple spliffs for you mate, thought it'd help you relax. Also, I popped down to Best Books and picked up a couple Jane Austen novels - they were on sale." Zayn rambles on about who was working behind the till when he bought the books, which dealer he went to for the weed. He does this, speaks animatedly about every single detail as to where things brought into the flat came from. It's a coping method for Louis, a reassurance that new items aren't complete strangers, that they're okay to come in and make camp in Louis' home.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it," Louis nods, lights a joint between his lips and inhales slowly. He's no stranger to drugs, not with his best friend being Zayn. But being so holed up in the flat, his meetings with illegal substances lately have been far and few between. 

Zayn lights one for himself, gets up to open a window and put a CD in Louis' charity shop bought CD player. Today's choice is 'The Best of the Specials'. As always, he skips straight to track two, 'A Message to You Rudy'.

"On man, this brings back memories, doesn't it?" Zayn smiles, sways in time to the beat and nods his head. And Zayn's right, it does bring back memories. Memories of long car journeys and trips to the coast in summer. Memories of an only-moderately-shy Louis singing along with Zayn, laughs intertwined like smoke as they belt the lyrics out, knee deep in sea water. Memories of walking across the gravel barefoot afterwards, still humming the same tune as they lick their ice creams. Memories of salty lips and sandy toes, light-hearted giggles and skin warm from the sun. Memories of when Louis could happily go outside without thoughts of imminent death plaguing his thoughts.

Louis starts a second joint and passes off the tears in his eyes to being stoned. 

 

-

 

When Monday comes around, Louis makes his tea in the morning with a new bout of determination. He's decided that he's at least going to _try_ and be the same Louis he was three years ago, and the first step to becoming that again is to be more social.

Louis decides to start with Harry.

Louis has around three minutes after he's walked onto his balcony to give himself a mental pep talk before Harry comes stumbling out of the bakery door. He looks up to the fire escape instinctively, eyebrows raising when he sees louis actually standing against the railing, not hunched over into his nest of pillows and blankets like usual. 

"Good morning," Louis mumbles, voice quiet and shaky as he raises his mug up to his lips for another sip.

"Hi!" Harry says brightly, smile beaming as he looks up at Louis and waves his hand at a rapid speed. 

Louis takes a deep breath, swallows hard as he realises that _shit_ he is doing this under his own terms, _shit_ this is the only person outside of Zayn and his mother he's spoken to in over a year. 

It seems as though Harry doesn't understand the weight of this moment for Louis, or perhaps he does and chooses to ignore it. He's perfectly happy, lights a cigarette and continues to grin up at the sleepy Louis. 

"Did you enjoy the cupcakes? Baked 'em myself I did, iced them too!" Harry is bright and his voice wraps around Louis like a childhood blanket. He feels comforted, accepted. He could listen to his voice forever. 

Louis nods, his smile small as he sparks up.

"Good, I'm glad. Was wondering when I'd finally get you to taste something from here. I started thinking of buying a pigeon to deliver little boxes of buns to your window," Harry's chuckling as he talks, and Louis can't help it, his smile gets bigger and bigger until a giggle is released from his lips. 

The giggle echoes through the air, leaves Louis like an unspoken secret and weaves it's way to Harry like a promise of something much more. It's high pitched and sweet, and makes Harry's eyes squint as his smile takes up most of his face. 

"My names Louis," 

"That's a lovely name, I'm Harry Styles," 

"It's good to finally meet you Harry," Louis is still smiling. He's smiling and he hasn't stuttered and his voice is ringing clear. Doing this, conversing or whatever, has never felt so _easy_. For Louis this is the release of fresh air he needed to be able to stand up straight without a weight on his shoulders. He feels as though he's just awoken from a year long sleep, only now opening his eyes and seeing the world properly. 

"Likewise, Louis." 

Harry's grin is lopsided. Louis thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

-

By the time Zayn walks in to the apartment at about 12, Louis is still buzzing with energy and smiling.

He's in the kitchen, happily munching on some instant noodles and swaying his hips in time to the music coming from his CD player, currently playing 'For Emma' by Bon Iver.

Zayn's so used to Louis being curled up outside on the fire escape he walks past the kitchen completely, double takes as he sees louis' usual nest empty. 

"Louis?!" Zayn calls, grips the plastic bag in his hand as he whips around and storms through the bedroom. "Lou?!" He's worried now, because Louis is always waiting for him on the balcony.

"I'm in here," Louis replies gleefully, setting down his bowl and toddling out to the hallway.

The first thing he does is get onto his tiptoes to hug Zayn. And Zayn's shocked, body still as he takes in the feeling of Louis' little body wrapped around his. The corner up his mouth slowly lifts upwards as he hugs Louis back. 

"What's all this Lou?" Zayn questions, hands slowly sliding up and down Louis' back as they embrace.

"I spoke to Harry today, like, opened my mouth and started up a conversation. All by myself!" 

Zayn takes the afternoon off work and spends the rest of the day showering Louis in compliments and reminding him of how proud he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :D  
> I have no idea how this is going, I apologise if it's awful or doesn't make sense or if there's mistakes. I would be very grateful for any sort of feedback of criticism you guys have!
> 
> :D :D


	3. Chapter 3

Louis doesn't go onto his fire escape for three days.

But he's scared, _terrified_ even, of seeing Harry again. This isn't supposed to happen, Louis didn't plan it this way. He wanted morning chats that led to inside jokes and maybe even eventually inviting Harry inside.

He hasn't moved in four hours, hasn't stopped smoking and whimpering and curling up into the smallest ball he can make himself into. 

Zayn's worried, _of course_ Zayn's worried. And Louis hates himself for making Zayn sad, hates himself anyway for taking one step forward and immediately propelling himself eighteen steps back. His heart hasn't stopped rapidly beating, thumping against his chest like a rabbits foot. He keeps tugging at his hair, clutching at his skin, scratching at his face. 

He doesn't want to be here anymore, not right now, he wants to disappear. He wants to sink into his covers, bury himself until he evaporates into tiny specks of dust, left to settle inside the four walls of his bedroom. 

It's a Thursday, and for once Louis isn't plagued with thoughts of the past and filth and death.

His thoughts are filled with self-hatred and utter desperation. 

-

It's raining as Zayn walks towards Louis' apartment, a cold drizzle that seems to reflect the downcast haze that's fallen upon the atmosphere.

Zayn's anxious as he walks towards the apartment, mind plagued with thoughts of a distressed Louis taking out his despair on himself. It wouldn't be the first time he's walked in to find a grief stricken Louis burning, scratching, numbing himself away. 

He stops abruptly as he walks past the bakery, inhales deeply the smell of vanilla and golden syrup. It's essence draws him in, settles into his bones and coaxes him into the small shop like a trap. 

Zayn hesitates for a moment, gazes up at the empty fire escape before heaving a sigh and walking in. The bell tinkles as he opens the door, alerting the old woman by the counter of his arrival.

"Good afternoon love, you alright?" She smiles, eyes crinkling and ring-clad fingers dropping the pen she was previously doing a word search with. The tag pinned to her slightly ratty apron reads "Barbara", as well as a few smiley face stickers and a flower broach tucked in just behind it. 

Zayn decides she's adorable.

"Yeah I'm good thank you! Listen, is Harry worki-"

"Harry!" Barbara's teasing call interrupts Zayn, and soon after a flustered looking Harry stumbles in through the back, curls tied back and batter covered whisk dripping onto the floor. He startles when he sees Zayn, letting the whisk fall and clatter. "Now now, that's not the best way to impress local suitors, is it poppet?" Barbara teases, collecting the whisk from the floor and pinching Harry's cheeks as she hobbles to the back room. 

"Harry, hi!" Zayn starts, rubbing the back of his neck. He's not sure how this is supposed to go, if Harry's been wondering where Louis is, if he's even noticed at all. 

"Is Louis okay?" 

So he's noticed then.

"He's alright, he's just.." Zayn sighs, wonders how to explain to Harry that no, Louis' not okay. He's trapped at home having a mental breakdown because he finally worked up the courage to introduce himself to a pretty boy. "He's a bit delicate at the moment, you'll have to excuse him."

"No that's, okay. I was worried, he didn't come outside, nor the next day, or the next even! I didn't want to intrude or anything, perhaps walking up there and seeing for myself would've been a bit weird huh?" Harry's chuckling, but it's not happy, it's nervous. 

"Don't worry about it mate, I'm always checking up on him. I'm Zayn, by the way," He leans forward, shaking Harry's hand and giving him the best reassuring smile he can muster. A small smile gives way on Harry's face as he shakes back, grip gentle and soft.

"S'pleasure Zayn. Can I get you anything today?" Harry steps back, gestures to the cabinet filled with cakes and cookies.

"Actually, I was thinking of getting Louis something, to cheer him up y'know? Anything you can recommend?" 

Harry springs into action, jogging into the back yelling a hurried "one moment!" When he returns, it's with a sunny beam and a carefully wrapped package. He presents it to Zayn, twirling it around so he can see the label saying "Louis" in swirly hand writing.

"This is sure to cheer him up, a batch of chocolate whoopie pies I made this morning!" He hands the box over proudly, quickly snatching it back with a "wait" before plonking a green bow on top. "There, now it's done, with a bow on top and everything!"

Zayn's stunned, eyes wide and mouth agape as he picks up the box. 

"Thank you, so so much. He's gonna appreciate this tonnes, how much?" He asks as he sticks his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet.

"On the house, honestly. Just let me know if he likes them yeah?" Harry chirps, hands clasped behind his back. He's swaying slightly, moving left to right as if dancing to music that's not actually playing. 

"Are you sure? Oh man, you're the best, thank you!" Zayn grins, clapping Harry on the shoulder with his free hand before walking outside onto the street with a light skip and bright eyes. 

\- 

"Lou? Where are you babe?" Zayn questions as he walks through the door to Louis' apartment. He coughs slightly, noticing the smoky haze spreading through the flat. And Zayn knows what this means, knows that Louis is so bad today that he's too scared to open the windows. So instead he shuts them tight, closes the curtains and lets the smoke from his cigarettes soak into the walls.

He sighs as he walks into the bedroom, frowns as he takes in the sight of Louis curled up looking so small. He's whimpering is the thing, and the small sad noises are reverberating around the room and consuming Zayn's thoughts. 

He carefully crawls across the bed, ignoring Louis' flinch as he opens up the window to air out the room. The whimpers die down as Louis realises who's with him, and he carefully uncurls himself from his ball.

"Zayn?" He sniffs. His eyes are glassy, and his lip is wobbling, and Zayn would do anything to take away the distress Louis is going through.

"I'm here sweetheart, get some sleep okay? I promise I'll be here when you wake up," Zayn assures, pulling the duvet up to Louis' chin and giving him a swift kiss on the forehead.

Louis nods, eyes drooping as he leans back into his pillows and lets himself be swallowed by sleep. 

And Zayn just stares at Louis, tries to recall a time when their interactions weren't spent like this. He misses Louis, he misses the Louis that shined like the fucking sun and the moon and every single star in the galaxy rolled into one. And don't get him wrong, he loves Louis, with every inch of his being. He just hates the dull flame hanging over his best friend's head. 

-

When Louis pads out of his bedroom after his nap, it's to find every inch of his apartment cleaned. And there's a fresh breeze too, the evening sunlight filtering in through the open windows. He steps forward, confused as to _who_ could've done this.

And then he finds Zayn, sitting at his kitchen table with a comforting smile on his face and package on the table. He sees Louis' confused frown, and gets up from his seat and gesturing for Louis to sit down instead. 

"A package from Harry, why don't you have a look? I'll go make a cuppa," Zayn wanders away after that, leaves Louis to find out on his own what new object appeared in his flat. 

Louis sits down unsurely, reaches steadily forward to read the tag. And as soon as he sees his name written out hurriedly in loopy writing, he relaxes, smiles a little even. Because he's calmed down a bit now. Harry can't hate him, can he? He can't find Louis repulsive and disgusting, or not that much anyway seeing as he's got a gift wrapped box sitting in front of him. 

He reaches forward, carefully tears the packaging to find a box inside. And as he opens the box, he leans back in content as the smell of the bakery wafts through the apartment. He _missed_ the smell that always reached him on his balcony, the warmth and the cinnamon that always smelled so homely to him.

"He scrambled around specially making you a little box," Zayn chuckles as he places a cup of tea in front of Louis, taking a seat in opposite him. "You see them inside?" Louis peers inside the box and nods. "They're called whoopie pies, or summat. Harry baked 'em this morning. Wanna try one?" 

Louis nods, shyly takes out a whoopie pie and passes it to Zayn before taking one out for himself. 

"Thank you Zayn, for this, for everything. You're the best, yeah?" Louis states as he looks down at the pie on the table. 

"Anytime Lou," Zayn hums, tangling his ankles with Louis' under the table as they both take a bite of their treats. 

"Oh wow, you sure do pick 'em don't ya?" Zayn teases, and Louis blushes, because yeah, he guess he kind of does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I think I'm kind if useless at updating but I'm trying my hardest!!  
> Thanks for reading, have a good day! :D


	4. Chapter 4

When Louis was five and king of the playground, he stole a boys Power Ranger and replaced it with his tiny bust up toy car. 

He didn't say anything, even when the boy was crying out for his mum in despair. He didn't say anything, even when the teachers sat all the children down and asked them what happened. He didn't say anything, even when the other kids couldn't stop talking about the thievery. By the time he went home, the guilt had become so strong he could nothing but cry and tell his mum what he did. Going into school the next day and confessing that he was to blame was perhaps the most humiliating experience of his life. 

Louis feels as though that's what going out onto the balcony again feels like.

He's nervous this morning, blanket curled around his figure as he shuffles his feet a  
Iittle, waits for Harry to step outside as usual for a smoke. He feels like a child again, vulnerable and guilty and ashamed.

When the doors to the bakery open and Harry steps outside, Louis' explaining before he can even look up.

"I don't like to go outside." 

And Louis feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, because at least the truth is out there. Harry smiles at Louis, looks down as he rolls his cigarette between his fingers.

"That's okay," he shrugs, and gives Louis this _look_ , as though he understands all of Louis, and he'll never judge him. It's a look that says "trust me" and a look that says "you're everything" and Louis reckons that going outside would be worth it if he got to see that look everyday.

-

The next morning is a Friday, and it goes much better than all previous encounters.

It starts with Harry asking how Louis liked the whoopie pies, to which Louis replied with great enthusiasm, and praise. It then led to the topic of favourite foods, in which Harry confessed to being a big lover of Mexican food, tacos in particular. 

"I can cook them, too! I can cook other things, but making tacos is so much fun. It's all in the preparation, y'know? I like making the table look pretty and presenting things in little bowls." 

Harry's wildly enthusiastic about the topic, hands waving around with spirit and eyes lighting up. He's entrancing, and he has Louis so absolutely absorbed with his light that Louis reckons he could be talking about gravel and he'd still be the most engrossing character he'd ever laid eyes on.

He wants to tell Harry, is the thing. He wants to confess that to him, Harry is a soft rosie balloon, floating, drifting in a sky filled with grey and glum. And Louis, he's afraid of the sky. It just so happens that the one time he plucked up the courage to look up, he found something that made him want to reach up and touch the stars. 

But he's not going to mention anything, because even though his conversation skills are rusty, he's still aware that metaphors about Harry being the best thing in the atmosphere is probably not the best way to connect.

Instead, he murmurs, eyes still glued to Harry, "I haven't eaten a home cooked meal in over a year." 

And at that, Harry's eyes widen in shock, hands at his sides as he looks up at Louis with nothing but concern and pity.

But before he can say anything, Louis is standing up, grabbing his cigarettes and climbing inside the window pane. He shuts the window, locks it tight and scrambles into his bed, climbing under the duvet and his body starts to shake.

He's fucked it up, he's shared too much of himself. Harry will think he's weird now, Harry will understand how much of a freak Louis is and never talk to him again. Harry will hate him. Because he's disturbed and he can't leave the house and he can't eat home cooked meals because _for fucks sake_ there's no one around to cook it for him. He's alone, and he's sad, and he can't even leave the house to pick up his _fucking_ post because he's scared, fucking terrified. 

And he can't do anything but tug his hair and clench his teeth and scratch his skin in frustration. 

-

When Zayn strolls in the next evening, his eyes are bright and mischievous.

"Why're your eyes doing that?" Louis questions, wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa with a mug of tea in his hands. He's watching some sort game show, has been all day, but even then he doesn't know what's going on. His life is like that, he watches things with a fake interest but never takes it in. Unless it's Harry and his wild hair and knobbly legs.

"Doing what?" Zayn shrugs, but his voice holds a teasing edge to it and Louis doesn't like that.

"You're planning something, I can tell. You're doing that thing where you smile like you have a secret. I don't like it."

Zayn sighs, takes off his shoes and rounds over to the sofa to drop a kiss to Louis' head. 

"Listen, I'm gonna need you to take a shower and wear something that's not trackies and a jumper, okay?" 

Louis whips his head up, eyes wide and startled.

"Why?! What's going on?" His voice is high pitched and scratchy, panic laced in every word.

"Hey, hey no none of that. Don't give me those Bambi eyes. We're not leaving the flat okay? I promise," Zayn soothes as he bends down in front of Louis. He holds his hands, tries to convey with the sincerity of his face that it's all okay.

"Well then what's going on? Who's coming? Why do I have to get ready all nice?" Louis questions. His breath is getting shorter, heart rate picking up. He doesn't like this, his constant fear of the unknown making him scared and frantic. 

"Look at me Lou, I wouldn't agree to anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay? You've got to trust me on this. It's good, it's all good. It's going to be alright, amazing even. You're not leaving the flat, no one is coming. Just us in here, it's just us," 

Louis nods timidly, squeezes Zayn's hands with his own. 

"Okay, I'm sorry. I trust you, I'm sorry. I'll go now," Louis mumbles. He gets up out of his nest, makes his way to the bathroom with his head hung low and face sad. 

As he showers, he can hear Zayn walking around the flat. He's moving things about by the sounds of it, and Louis tries to keep his racing mind at bay, reassuring himself that no ones coming inside. 

Once he steps out, he looks in the mirror. His hair is getting long again, but he doesn't want to ask Zayn to cut it considering last time Louis ended up with a couple bald patches and a very apologetic best friend. On a whim, Louis decides to shave. And once he's finished and his face is soft and smooth, the image staring back at him is starting to resemble less of a scruffy hermit and more _Louis_. 

Hair blow dried and fluffy, Louis raids his wardrobe for something presentable. He hasn't been shopping in over a year, and all his clothes are getting old and holey. And he's sad now, because surely boys his age should be experimenting with their image and trying new things. But no, Louis' left with the tattered clothes of his youth.

Luckily, at the back of the closet, Louis finds denim shirt which he wears over a plain white top. And skinny jeans. And he may or may not have digged out his old favourite pair of oxfords. 

He walks out of his room sheepishly, playing with the sleeves of his shirt and trying his best to find some confidence. Zayn's waiting there, slightly out of breath and holding a lighter in his hand. 

"Now look at you, eh? Absolutely beautiful. Give me a twirl Lou, show me what we're working with!" He exclaims, and Louis blushed and giggles, twirls around to show off the whole of his outfit.

Zayn's eyes grow soft as he takes in all of Louis. It's just been so /long/, and he's started to forget what his best friend looks like when he's not covered in layers and huddled under a blanket. 

"Don't panic, but I'm going to cover your eyes, okay? We're not leaving the flat, just going to the fire escape. Do you trust me?" Zayn asks, not making a move until Louis nods and and takes a step forward himself. "Good, c'mere then love." 

As Zayn obscures Louis' vision with his hands, he guides him back towards the bedroom, careful not to walk into anything or lose balance. He gently helps Louis onto the fire escape, and he feels his forehead furrow in confusion.

"Ready Lou?" He asks, and Louis nods before Zayn lowers his hands.

The first thing he sees are the candles, at least 30 of them surrounding the metal floor and and the railings, trailing up onto the steps and illuminating the sky. Then he notices the desk and chair. And then the freshly cooked plate of Tacos on the desk. And the flowers in a vase, the wine glass and bottle of rosé settled next to them.

He hears a cough, and Louis head snaps up.

And then there's Harry.

He's standing there, just under the fire escape with his hands clasped behind his back and a sheepish smile on his face. He's got a set up just like Louis on the street below, a table with candles and wine and food. And Louis can't believe this. He can't _believe_ this is happening.

Harry must notice his disbelief, because he scratches the back of his neck and quickly says "You said you hadn't eaten a home cooked meal in a while," as though it's that simple and setting up a fucking restaurant on Louis' fire escape is a mandatory thing to do.

"I'll leave you two to enjoy your meal, okay? I'll be in here if you need anything." And with that Zayn offers Louis a reassuring smile before climbing back into the window and disappearing inside the flat. 

"Harry yo-, is this, erm, for me?" Louis asks, and Harry grins before gesturing towards Louis' table. 

"Course it is! I'd pull out your chair for you, but like, I guess I can't," Harry chuckles nervously. "Take a seat yeah? I made tacos, made from scratch they are! Okay, so I might've had to buy the shells, but I made the seasoning all by myself." 

They both take a seat behind their respective little tables, and Louis' still trying to wrap his head around the fact that all this effort has gone into making this perfect little scene for him. He must be dreaming, because here he is. With a beautiful boy who made him dinner. And none of his boundaries are being pushed, he hasn't left his home and no ones come inside. Amazing.

"Harry this is just, thank you. Thank you so much," Louis says, and as he looks down at Harry, he can't help but feel a smile take up his face.

"You're welcome," Harry replies. And his voice is gentle, and so are his eyes, and his smile, and his whole fucking face. And with the way his heart clenches slightly and his stomach flutters, Louis things there's no possible way he could ever be afraid when he's looking at Harry.

Louis looks down, blushes, and reaches for a taco. "I have high expectations Curly," he teases. And Harry grins even wider in turn. 

"I have high hopes Lou," 

_Lou._

Louis takes a bite of the taco, takes a minute to appreciate how fucking amazing it tastes. Because _god_ , there's not a time that Louis can remember tasting nothing better. He makes a high pitched noise of approval as he chews, hastily going in for a second chomp. Harry giggles at this, starts to eat it own meal as he watches Louis fondly.

And it's perfect really, it's amazing. Louis is here, with the breeze on his skin and the candles providing a gentle warmth, ears filled with the distant noises of London and the comforting sound of Harry chewing his food. 

"Well?..." Harry asks once they're done, Louis having lit a cigarette and leaned back into his chair, rubbing his tummy happily. 

"I haven't felt so contentedly full in my life," Louis hums, eyes hazy as he takes in the setting sun over the rooftops. "You're a bit of an all-rounder, aren't you?"

"Whatcha mean?" Harry asks gently, lighting his own cigarette and pouring himself some wine.

Louis inhales slowly, casts his eyes towards Harry with a timid smile. "You can bake and cook, and serve all day, and you have an impeccable music taste, from what I can tell. And you're always on time, never miss work, and you smile whilst you do it. And you can make a 21 year old loner with no life plans the happiest he's ever been in the space of fifteen minutes. So, y'know, just an all-round swell guy.."

Louis' voice trails off, and he doesn't look up in fear he's stepped past the boundaries of Harry's comfort zone. The thing is, he hasn't socialised in a while, has forgotten how to hold an actual conversation without scaring someone of saying something wrong or inappropriate. And he kind of wants to disappear.

Harry must notice, because instead of picking Louis up on his naked confession, he simply smiles with his eyes and says "Well I must admit, I don't think having the lyrics to George Michael's 'Careless Whisper' tattooed on your ankles counts as an impeccable music taste."

And so Louis looks up in surprise, giggling as he forces Harry to show him the embarrassing tattoo. 

They stay on the balcony until every last drop of wine has been drunk, the sun has set and the tea lights have died.

Louis falls asleep cuddled into Zayn's side, relaying every detail of the dinner and thanking him profusely for helping Harry set it up. His cheeks are flushed, from both the cold and the alcohol. And his eyes are crinkled from the smile taking up his face, and his full tummy is making him more and more tired until he lulls to sleep, face smushed into Zayn's armpit, sated and soft.

Zayn falls asleep also, happiness spreading through him at the sight of Louis so comfortable and calm.


	5. Chapter 5

"Louis? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me mum," Louis sighs shakily down the phone. He's decided that if he can sit through a meal without crying and walking away, he can most definitely ring up his own mother for a catch up.

"What a lovely surprise, I haven't heard from you in a while!" She giggles, but the apprehension in her voice his clear. "Are erm, are you okay?" She asks, voice more quiet and tentative than it had been before. 

And Louis winces at that question, because he's not sure what he can say to make her feel better without being a liar. He knows just how hurt she had become when he got too nervous to invite his mum around anymore. He knows this whole shell he has become has hit her harder than anyone apart from Louis himself.

"I'm actually quite okay at the moment mum, I-I've made a new friend," 

"Oh you have?! Louis that's great!" She gushed, voice flowing with enthusiasm and happiness now. 

"Yeah, he is. His name is Harry, he works opposite the flat down that cobbled alleyway," Louis can feel himself getting excited as he talks now, because he _does_ have a new friend, and that's so much for him to be able to do at the moment. And a small part of him has a childish hope that his mum will coddle into him and give him a cuppa and tell him how proud she is of him. 

"That's great love, listen I've got to go, do you need anymore money?" Of course that small childish hope is diminished right away.

"No mum, you've sent enough," Louis sighs. 

"Alright sweetheart, speak later, bye!"

"Bye mu-" Louis is cut off before he can finish his goodbye. And really, that's kind of ironic, because when Louis took the leap to finally move out, he was cut off before he even left. 

Louis knows that Joanne is a very busy woman. When Louis was young and the centre of his mum's attention, she was still bustling with long shifts and late nights. After his first sister was born, it got even worse. Eventually, she had three more girls and got married to a millionaire snotty football player, and little Louis with his big sad eyes and permanent anxiety was kicked to the curb in some sort of way. He knows now, that trust isn't always found through blood.

But trust is found with cigarettes, because they have never, ever let him down. Louis fumbles with the phone, puts it away securely in the furthest corner of the apartment. 

He's never been fond of the thought that _anyone_ could reach your place of residence as easily as that. And after spending a few second willing himself not to cry at the lack of a caring parent, he climbs back out onto the fire escape, planning to spend his day chain smoking and mentally making lists of all the bad things that are in the world.

He's interrupted though, by what sounds like an argument on the street. 

"Listen I'm sorry, I didn't know she was allergic to nuts, we have a sign saying that our products may contain traces an-"

"I ordered a blueberry muffin! What sort of bakery is this? You won't be hearing from me again, that's for sure!" The woman outside the bakery huffed, swung her handbag onto her shoulder and gave Harry a resentful glare before stomping away.

Louis watched as Harry's whole figure hunched over, wiping a hand over his face and taking a deep breath. Louis would do anything to stop the distress coming from such a beautiful person.

"Harry? Is everything alright?" Louis called out from the balcony hesitantly. He flinched on instinct when Harry whipped around to look at him, dropping his cigarette in the process.

"It's fine Lou, just a complaint from a lady who took some muffins the other day. Apparently her daughter is allergic to nuts, who knew eh?" He shrugged, gave Louis a sad sort of smile. Sad-sort-of-smiles are not what Louis wants to see.

"It's not your fault, she should have read the sign. Don't feel bad. Would you erm.. Actually Harry, would you like to-" Louis cuts himself off. He was most definitely about to invite Harry inside for a cuppa. Into his home. His wretched, smoke stained but entirely his nest.

Louis glances at Harry's hopeful face, and looks down to avoid the way his face turns let down when Louis mutters out a meek "never mind". 

It's quite for a moment. Louis' is mentally beating himself for being such a coward. Harry is internally beaming with pride at how Louis even attempted to bring someone inside.

"You look like a French model up there," Harry states. And he does, he definitely does, with his arm wrapped around his small waist and his stripy oversized T-shirt accentuating his collarbones. 

Harry has found beauty in the form of a fragile figure with tar stained lungs and tea stained lips.

Louis just blushes, bites his lip to stop the ever growing smile from taking over his face and turning away. Harry is admiring and soft in the sun's light.

"Remember the night we had dinner?" Louis asks.

"I could never forget."

"I thought that everything you said sounded like a slow symphony," He whispers, as if it's a big secret that doesn't need to be shared. He's looking into Harry's eyes now, as best as he can from the fire escape above. Harry can see the slow rising warmth despite the distance. The confession is sincere, and the moment feels monumental.

Harry opens his mouth, about to reply when suddenly a booming voice calls from inside the bakery.

"Harry! Harry are you still out there? She didn't skin you did she?" Barbara pops her head out of the doorframe, chuckles at her own joke.

"No, no. I was just talking t-" Harry turns towards the fire escape, only to find it empty save a few empty mugs and the soft curtains from the window fluttering through the breeze. "Talking, I was just talking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an awful person for not updating in so long. Between my GCSEs and trying to stay sane I haven't really found time for this. But I went to see One Direction for my birthday on Saturday, and when I looked at Louis I imagined him sitting on a fire escape with a cigarette and thought that this little fic is most definitely worth it. I'm back now :) I'm determined to keep this going and get it finished. Thanks for reading :)


	6. Chapter 6

Mornings continue with idle chit chat, mainly about Harry's upbringing and his life.

Louis' learned that Harry comes from Cheshire and moved to London seeking an adventure and instead shares a cruddy flat with a cruddy flat mate named Cameron with seemingly no life ambitions and a tendency to bring too many people back at once.

Harry said that as much as he loves the cafe, the income is small and he sometimes struggles to pay the rent. But it's worth it in the end. He works with Barbara, an old woman in her sixties who has owned the cafe for twenty five years and always makes Harry feel at home. Harry admitted to feeling a bit like his life is lacking something, but he's optimistic and won't complain.

Harry's learned that Louis always waits for Harry in his little fire escape nest, and his form is small but his giggle is loud, loud, loud. Every day, Louis breaks out of his shell a little bit more, will crack a joke or two, look at nothing but Harry with a spark in his eye and a jumpy fragile heart as he anticipates all of Harry's reactions. 

After two weeks (excluding Thursdays where Louis stays inside and Harry convinces himself he doesn't miss the boy), Harry finds himself faced with Louis and Zayn waiting for him. He looks up, and Zayn is grinning, a proud, excited smile and a glint in his eyes. 

"Hey guys, what's up?" Harry's asks, leaning against the brick wall below.

"Louis' decided he wants to create a pully system," Zayn exclaims, holding up rope and a basket.

Louis sees the confusion on Harry's face, and jumps in to explain. "Like, you don't have to agree. I was just thinking if we made a pully we could send thinks back and forth to each other. It's not- we don't have to. It was a stupid idea actually," Louis mumbles, looking down and playing with his fingers.

But now Harry understands, and the thought of sending little cakes up to Louis' fire escape makes his stomach flutter and his cheeks flush.

"It's the best idea I've ever heard." Harry's says softly, his tone so so fond and filled with appreciation. Louis looks up hesitantly, and they do that thing where their eyes catch each other and Harry reassures through his and Louis calms down and becomes pilant and happy in turn.

Zayn snaps them out of it, claps his hands together and gestures to the hooks and other items on the floor.

"Let's do this then, yeah?" 

It takes a while, due to Harry trying to catch the drill and hook and failing and ending up standing on his own foot a little too hard. And Louis is giggling and flushed, elated to see his vision come together. And Zayn is trying to call out instructions over Harry and Louis' constant little jokes, and Barbara comes outside to see what the fuss is about. 

When Barbara walks outside, Louis tenses up and retreats slightly, panics as his shock takes over. He's never met Barbara, and his brain is moving too fast, his heart is rabbiting, his face pale white. Harry looks up worriedly, but relaxes when he realises Zayn is muttering reassurances into Louis' ear, rubbing his back with a soothing hand. Soon Louis is moderately back to an OK state, albeit a little stiff, and Harry ignores the pang of jealousy that bubbles in his chest and turns back to Barbara.

"We're making a pully system, see?" Harry explains, with the enthusiasm of a child as he tugs on the rope connected to the wall.

Barbara shakes her head fondly, smiles up at Zayn and Louis.

"Well have fun then, don't make any mess! Cuppa Harry?" And with that she's gone inside again, muttering to herself and shuffling her feet.

Louis decides that she's lovely, and Harry seems to love her a lot, and that means that it's okay for her to be around and Louis shouldn't be scared. 

"She seems nice," Louis muses, and with that they continue to construct a communication device between Louis and Harry.

After copious amounts of tea and multiple cigarette breaks, the pully system is complete. They celebrate by sharing a bottle of wine, Louis using the pully system to send the bottle down to Harry in a basket. 

"I've got to go guys, early shift and all. I'll see you tomorrow yeah Lou?" Zayn bends down to give Louis a peck on the head, whispering a "well done, I'm so proud of you" into Louis' ear as he does.

It's just Louis and Harry then, Louis sitting by his window pane and Harry leaning against the brick wall below. 

The street is quiet, and the bakery has long since closed. The smoke from Louis' cigarette is is whirling through the sky between them, and Louis can't help but chuckle.

"A bloody pully, I feel like I'm a kid again." Louis mumbles, but his voice is loud and clear in the evening air.

"I bet you do, you're not alone though, I'm excited too... Hey Louis, what were you like as a kid?" Harry's speaks softly, hesitant, letting Louis know he doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to.

Louis is silent for a bit, finishes his cigarette before answering.

"I had four sisters growing up, so I was pretty much a hurricane y'know? Trying to get attention was hard. I wanted to be an actor," Louis confesses.

"No! Really?" Harry exclaims, shocked at the thought.

"Oh yeah, went to drama club and everything. I calmed down a bit when I was about 13, didn't want to be the centre of attention anymore. Started staying in. Me and Zayn got closer, and he would take me out to the park and we'd play footie and have picnics. It was nice, quaint. I was never a party animal. Preferred a quiet night in."

Louis shuffles a bit, tightens his blanket around him.

"When I was 16 I told my mum I was.. That I was gay." 

Louis closes in, he's done talking. It's out there now, nothing he can do can take back his confession. Harry notices his change.

"I told my mum when I was 14," Harry admits. Louis' head lifts, and he stares at Harry a little shocked. He's not alone. He's not alone.

Harry gives Louis a small smile and a shrug, and that's all there is to it.

-

When Louis wakes up the next morning, he finds the basket on the pully filled with cookies, and a sheepish looking Harry smiling at him through the bakery windows. 

When Harry steps out for a smoke a bit later, he finds the basket filled with a small mix CD with the words 'For Harry X' scribbled across the front, and a note saying 'thank you Haz'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another filler chapter to keep to ball rolling :) Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

It's a few weeks later when Zayn brings it up.

"What do you mean?" Louis questions. He's stopped preparing his tea in order to freeze and look at Zayn with a disbelieving look on his face.

"I mean, it might be a good idea," Zayn says softly. 

Louis is not on board. There is no way.

"Come on, just a few over the phone therapy sessions a week. I saw it on a documentary about a girl similar to you, it helped her out!"

"Similar to me? What do you even mean? Zayn, I'm fine, I don't need therapy, you're overreacting!"

"Overreacting?! Louis, you haven't left the house in over a year!" At this, Louis flinches. Because yeah, okay, maybe it's been a while since he's taken a walk down the road, but that doesn't mean he's mental, does it? 

Zayn softens, pads over to Louis to wrap his arms around him.

"I'm sorry Louis, I'm just trying to help you out. Wouldn't you like to be able to pop over and see Harry sometimes?"

Louis scrambles out of Zayn's hold, stomps over to the hall and points out towards the bakery from the window.

"Is this what this is about? Harry?"

"Not just Harry Lou, there's someone I'd l-"

"Get out."

"What?" Zayn exclaims, because Louis has _never_ sent him away. Louis' shaking slightly now, looking disheveled as potters around the flat, cleaning things up.

"I'm fine, I'll show you. Get out,"

"Louis, I'm sorry if I upset you, but don't do anything you're gonna regret," Zayn pleads. Louis isn't listening, he's muttering to himself, straightening out cushions and opening up windows. 

Zayn huffs, because clearly Louis isn't going to listen to him right now, and he doesn't want to distress him any further.

Louis hears Zayn leave the flat, but is too busy getting everything set up. He's fine, he's fine and well and he'll prove it. 

He scrambles for a piece of paper, writes what he needs to, and climbs onto his fire escape. He takes a deep breath, because he _can_ do this, just watch. He pulls on the rope until the basket from the pully system is in front of him. He eyes the piece of paper, wondering if this is the right thing to do. And then he remembers what Zayn said, and of /course/ this is the right thing. This'll get Zayn off his back. This is a step.

He places the paper into the basket, and sends it back down to the bakery. 

-

When Harry steps out of the bakery after his shift, he's worn out and in need of Louis to cheer him up. Because nothing perks him up better than the blue eyes and nimble fingers of the cute, nervous boy he's grown so fond of.

He's surprised, however, when he doesn't find Louis in his usual perch, and instead a note in the basket.

He frowns, tentatively picking up the note and unfolding in. When he reads it over, he reads it again, because _surely_ this can't be right. But there it is, in Louis' handwriting; 'Flat number 8, pop over for some tea after work? Louis x'.

-

Louis is freaking out. He's showered, brushed his teeth, hoovered (twice), wiped down every surface, washed up, dusted, put his books and CD's into coordinated piles, and he still doesn't feel ready. 

Maybe Zayn is right. Maybe he needs help, because this is _tea_ , with Harry of all people, this shouldn't be such a big deal. 

But gosh, it's Harry. Harry who could see Louis up close and realise how disgusting he is, how many flaws he possesses. Harry who could take one look at how short and frail he is and realise he could be spending his time with somebody better than Louis. 

But before Louis' has a chance to spiral too far into his internal panic, there's a knocking on the door. 

Louis freezes. This is it. There's no going back, no Zayn to help him out, it's just him now. Just him and Harry.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Louis makes his way towards his front door. He reaches forward a shaky hand, tries to ignore his pounding heart, and slowly turns the handle.

Harry has his back turned to him, muttering to himself about the wrong number, until Louis lets out a soft cough that has him whipping around.

And his green eyes are the first things Louis' notices. His eyes, that are so rounded and bright and friendly. That are staring back at Louis' so open, so trusting, that Louis' feels like he could bare his soul to him and still have him looking the same way. The next thing he notices is his height, and his broad, broad shoulders that leave Louis feeling protected rather than intimidated. 

And Louis knows straight away, that this was definitely the right decision. 

Harry's lips curl up into a sweet smile, making his dimples show and making Louis an ever bigger pile of mush. 

"I bought cupcakes!" Harry exclaims, raising an arm and showing the bag he's carrying. "And er... Flowers, I bought.. I bought flowers" Harry utters shyly, offering Louis the bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

"Oh Harry, you really didn't have to, no ones ever done this for me," 

"They haven't?! Well, you deserve them, always. I got them from that little flower stand, it's just down the road to the right." Louis leads Harry to his dining table where he'd laid out a pot of tea, and nods along as Harry explain where the flowers are from and who was there. It's almost as if he'd sensed straight away the uneasiness Louis feels towards foreign objects in his home. 

"Thank you Harry, so much. I'm not really comfortable with things in my home when I don't know where they've been, so it means a lot. Sorry, I know that's weir-"

"It's not weird," Harry's assures, taking a seat across from Louis. 

Louis smiles at that, begins to relax as the teas are poured.

"So, how was your day?" Harry asks, smiling wide as he blows the steam away from his mug. 

"Yeah it was good thanks, pretty average. Zayn popped over, that's about it. What about yours?"

And that's how the evening goes. Idle chit chat and the occasional joke, to which Louis would giggle and Harry would blush, and everything feels so much more natural than it has ever been.

Louis thinks that in another world, him and Harry could travel the world. Because there's no one he'd rather spend special moments with than Harry, even if those moments so far have consisted of childish laughter and the consumption of cigarettes. 

At one point, Louis leads Harry to the fire escape. And they watch the sun set, breathe in each other's air, and find comfort in the closeness of their brushing arms and combined happiness. 

"I'm so happy you invited me round Louis. Tell you a secret?" Harry asks, and Louis turns towards him, takes note of the sky lighting up Harry's face and the closeness of their eyes.

"'Course," Louis whispers, too scared to break the gentle atmosphere that's cradling both of them as they gaze at each other.

"You're even more beautiful up close." Harry admits. And at that, Louis' lips curve until his cheeks hurt and his eyes scrunch, leaning forward to give Harry a light kiss on the cheek before turning and snuggling into his chest.

And as Harry's wraps his arms around him, and London falls asleep, Louis thinks that yeah, he made the right decision.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought that I'd post this in chapters instead of one long one shot so that I could get people's ideas and criticism along the way :) I don't really know where this is going, but the idea has been playing on my mind and I thought "eh why not".   
> Let me know what you think! Thank you so so much for reading :)


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